“Damien, it was good to see you,” he said, shaking Damien’s hand firmly, so that there could be no question about his leaving.
“Yes, very good,” Damien said. “I will leave you to your princess.” He winked at Eliot as he left, and Eliot put his head in one hand.
“I didn’t know you were a prince,” Brynn said. A twinkle in her eye teased him, and he took a breath inwardly, trying to brush off the encounter.
“Not anymore. They took back all of the regal titles years and years ago. Before I was born.”
“Good thing they didn’t take back the castle.”
“The castle is nice, isn’t it?” He leaned back in his chair, smiling tightly. Brynn looked tickled to death with the revelation that he was descended from royalty, but perhaps the champagne was simply having an effect on her.
“Do you get to wear a crown?” Brynn asked. Eliot sighed, a half-smile on his lips.
“Perhaps I haven’t made this clear.”
Brynn laughed, her head tossed back, so that he could see her bared throat, the line of skin from her collarbone down to her cleavage. Eliot took a swallow of champagne and tried not to let himself stare.
“The reclusive mathematician is actually Prince Charming in disguise. I like it.”
“Minus the charm. I wonder if you should have any more of that,” he said, as Brynn finished her glass of champagne.
“It’s delicious. Bubbly.” She smiled so becomingly that he did not even mind when the waitress returned to fill her glass.
“I forget you have your college training behind you.”
“Oh, I didn’t drink much at college.”
“Not even at parties?”
“I didn’t really go to many. It’s just, you know, the guys there…” Brynn puckered her face in a frown. “Not the best scene.”
“And you’d rather hang out with the reclusive mathematicians.”
“Only the most regal ones.”
“I don’t suppose I’ll ever get you to forget about the whole prince thing.”
“Not a chance!” Brynn’s eyes sparkled.
The waiter came with the first course of the tasting menu, a rich fig and walnut salad, followed by a tomato bisque and a main course of butter-poached salmon. It pleased Eliot to see Brynn appreciate the meal so thoroughly, although he caught her at times picking apart the food, just as she had the bacon at his house. An endearing idiosyncrasy, he thought. Between the delicious food, the champagne, and the music, the evening was turning out to be a success. Laughter rose in the air and Brynn only cracked a few more jokes about Eliot’s noble heritage. Eliot breathed more lightly and clinked his glass against Brynn’s in a number of toasts before realizing that he was enjoying himself in society for the first time in a long time.
After the waiters served dessert—a chocolate pomegranate ganache topped with fresh cream—a few of the guests began to dance on the terrace. Eliot felt a tug at his wrist and looked up to see Brynn, her eyebrow raised in invitation.
“Dance?” she asked. Her enthusiasm was buoyed by the champagne, but Eliot could still hear a note of anxiousness behind the question. Dance? Of course he would dance. There was nothing else he would rather do. He held out his arm and Brynn rested her hand in the crook of his elbow. As they walked out onto the terrace by the band, Eliot thought he could sense people staring.
Let them stare. He was having a good night, after all.
Brynn tiptoed on her heels, and Eliot put his hand on her hip to steady her as she caught her balance. The soft music lilted through the air and around the dancers. Brynn’s hand was hot in his, her cheeks fairly flushed with pleasure.
“Thank you,” she said, leaning forward and resting her head on his shoulder. “For the internship, for all this. It’s wonderful.”
Eliot’s hand came up to the small of her back. The dress draped in a deep plunge at the back, and his fingers touched her skin. He did not move them.
“How do you like the frozen tundra of Budapest so far?” he asked.
“It’s not terrible,” Brynn said. “A castle, a kitten, a secret prince…”
“Everything you hoped for?”
“What I hoped for?” Brynn stopped dancing and tilted her head up so that her face was only inches away. “This is what I hoped for.” Her lips parted, pink and lush, and when she reached up with one hand to pull him down into a kiss he willingly bent forward.
The delicate, desirous pressure of her lips undid him, and he could not help but bend deeper, clasping her close to him in an embrace that yearned to erase years of isolation. He felt her under him, hot and wanting, her hands clutching his back. His hand came up to her cheek, caressing her skin. His fingers tangled themselves in her hair and he smelled the delicate scent of her jasmine perfume as the kiss broke apart and they stood with their foreheads still touching, breathless, silent. Brynn’s eyes were pools of soft violet reflecting the waters of the Danube, and he saw in them a hopefulness and innocence that tore at his heart.